Heartbeat
by Emmy1512
Summary: Entry for the Age of Edward contest. Salem 1691. "It was in that moment that I decided I would do whatever I could to stop her from being hung." M for adult content.


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**AN - A huge thanks to Cecilia1204 for betaing this for me, and to Lethologica86, for dealing with my whingy arse and telling me everything would be okay (and the fondles were awesome too. *fondles Letho*). You girls deserve as much credit as I do for this. Voting begins on July the 1st, so if you so desire, go vote for me.**

**Age of Edward Contest**

**Title: Heartbeat**

**Your pen name: Emmy1512**

**Ty****pe of Edward: Salem Edward**

**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this contest visit: ****The Age of Edward C2 Community:  
****http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/community/The_Age_of_Edward_Contest/70125/**

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Salem, MA. 1691

Isabella Swan

"Isabella! You must wake before father finds you. If he knows you've had the sickness again he will surely..."

I stirred at my sister's voice and opened my eyes to the blazing glare of the sun.

"Why do you worry so?" I sat and took my sister's hands in mine. "Surely father would not condemn his very daughter to hang at the gallows?"

It was the winter of the year 1691, and the people of Salem were obsessed with the evil of magick. Surely it was because there was so much that they couldn't understand. Fear will always lead people to extreme lengths to justify something that could not otherwise be explained.

"Isabella, you know not of the fear persons of the village have! You are sat here all day, and do not witness the trials, nor see the hangings! You know not of the true horror, only the little I have chosen to tell you! It pains me to say, but should father know of your ailment..."

My sister need not finish her sentence. I did not want to admit it, but I knew that she was right. I was in danger, not from people who I passed in the streets, but from those who slumbered in the same dwelling as I. Mother, father, and brother know not of my sickness. I do not tell them out of fear. It is the way of the people in this village that persons such as myself should be tried and hung should there be the belief that the devil possesses them.

But I am not evil. I do not carry the devil. I know not his face, nor do I ever wish to. I do not know why the sickness plagues me, but I do know I haven't a choice in the matter. It is my curse.

I stood and took my sister's hand. "Come on, Mary. We have to start the farm work, or father really will damn us."

The days pass slowly, days trickle into weeks, and weeks into months, and we found ourselves in the year 1692. My ailment had gone unnoticed by mother and father, but there was talk in town of a doctor returning to Salem from London. I suggested to Mary that we go seek his consult, but she was scared. We did not know his position on the witch hunts, and Mary did not want to take that risk. I had overheard father talking last night to some friends about the doctor's radical views. Father did not trust him, but Father's opinion had come to mean less to me in the past months. He had begun to publicly support the witch hunts, and each time a new 'witch' was caught, he would celebrate. No person should celebrate the death of a person, no matter what evils they have been accused of.

So on the first day of the fourth month, I found myself riding into the village with the intent to see this doctor. He resided on the other side of the village to me, close to the border of Boxford (I lived closer to Reading) so I had to ride through the village to get to him. This fact worried me slightly. I had never been in the village alone, and should the sickness overcome me once more on my ride, not only did I risk falling, but I also risked a villager witnessing.

Sighing to myself quietly I rode up outside a large old house just outside the borders of the village. I wondered briefly about how wise this was, but swept it to the side quickly. I needed to know if he knew something. I needed some sort of reassurance that I wasn't possessed.

Jumping off Credo, I tied her up carefully and patted her nose.

"I'll be back soon, I promise."

I pulled my hair over my shoulder, toying with the ends as I walked toward the entrance. I knocked twice and waited. I wasn't sure if this was his private home or if he came here to see patients. It was the only place I had heard people speak of. The rumours didn't do the house justice. It was large and beautiful, with flower beds lining the garden. I could spend hours lying here, or sitting on the bench.

After a moment of admiring the garden, the door opened slowly to reveal a handsome man who couldn't be more than forty.

"Good day, young girl. Can I help you?"

"And a good day to you, sir. I am looking for the new doctor… I've been told I could find him here…"

The gentleman opened the door wider and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I am the doctor. Carlisle Cullen. May I ask your name?"

"I'm Isabella," I answered quietly.

"It's nice to meet you Isabella. What can I help you with today?"

I looked around and behind me. "Perhaps we could talk about this inside?"

"Certainly!" He stepped aside and held his arm out, welcoming me inside. I stepped over the threshold and waited for him to close the door behind me. "Come, sit. Would you like something warm to drink?"

"No, thank you."

He nodded and sat down.

"Firstly, I have heard you have adverse opinions to the witch hunts. Would you care to share your stories with me?"

He looked at me hesitantly. "May I ask why you are interested?"

I chewed on my lip. A habit my father had told me to dispose of. "I am inclined to disagree with the hunts. I've heard you're the same way. I don't believe these women and men that they hunt are evil."

Carlisle looked at me intently before nodding. "Very well then." He took a breath. "As you are no doubt aware, I have spent a great deal of time in London. I have learnt much of medicines, and ailments, to be sure. Some of the reasoning being used here to justify the trials and hangings... I can easily place them to ailments."

"Of what ailments do you speak, sir? I have heard they are hanging the girls whose bodies tremble violently."

"Fits... Yes I have heard they are too... I do not believe these girls are evil. They are unfortunate enough to suffer from this ailment. I have seen much of it, but so far nothing that stops the fitting.

Carlisle looked at me intently. "Dear child, do you suffer from these fits?"

I bit my lip as I nodded. I knew that if it turned out this man couldn't be trusted it could be fatal for me, but by not taking this chance I placed myself in the same situation, with less chance of removing myself from it. "I do..."

"Oh dear... How long have you suffered?"

I thought back. "A year, perhaps two," I answered softly.

"And how old are you now?"

"I will be 19 next season."

Carlisle nodded grimly. "I wish there was something I could do to help you."

Carlisle stood up and walked to a wall covered in books. I had never seen so many before. Perhaps two or three that my father had, but there must be hundreds on this wall. "I'm sure I read something..." he was muttering to himself as his eyes ran over each of the leather bound books.

I stood up, wanting desperately to touch one of them. I had always wanted to learn to read, but father needed us at the farm.

"Ah! Here it is!" Carlisle exclaimed as he pulled a book from the top shelf. "There were rumours that a leaf from a plant... you chew on it... and..." His words trailed off as he flipped through the frail looking pages of the book.

"My nephew, Edward, knows more about this than I do... but it would be too dangerous to go to him."

My curiosity was heightened. "Why would it be dangerous? Is he dangerous?"

Carlisle's head snapped up. "No, he's not. Well, not directly. But my brother, Edward's father, is a judge. He is intent on seeing Salem rid of so-called 'witches'."

I shook my head. Surely if Edward's father had such strong opinions, so would Edward. How could Edward himself not be dangerous? This man seemed more and more mad by the minute, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. If my only hope was to listen to what he had to say, then I would take that chance.

"No, no. I'm so sorry. There's a plant, but I don't think it's grows here..." Carlisle looked at me with sorrow filled eyes.

"Oh..." I glanced outside. "The sun is low in the sky. If you have nothing else I should be headed home." I smiled gently.

"I am truly sorry, my child. I thought that I may be able to help. I promise you that I won't stop looking for an answer, if only to save one life. Please, be safe."

I walked out of the threshold of the house and rode home as quickly as I could. The sun was sinking beneath the mountains as I rode into the stable to clean up Credo. I knew that my father would be angry that I hadn't been there to help with supper, and was prepared for my punishment. I had not expected him to be standing in the stables waiting for me.

"Isabella." His voice was cold and filled with anger. Fear gripped at my heart as I saw the whip in his hand. "Off your horse." I climbed down and let go of the rein. Credo ran out of the stable, and I faced my father.

"Turn your back." I did as I was told, and winced before the whip made contact with my clothed back. I cried out in pain as my father continued to bring the whip down on me, ripping the cloth that protected me. My skin broke and I could feel the blood.

My world began to spin and everything went a light shade of gray before slipping into the black.

**Edward Cullen**

I sat at the table, my mind wandering as my father talked about his triumphs. He'd found two 'witches' so far, and they were to hang at morning's light. I could not help but feel disgusted at his words. I knew that I should believe him, but it was not logical that all of a sudden these women we'd previously admired in the village were evil, _possessed by the devil_, as father had put it. Surely it should be for Our Father to bring judgement upon these girls if they were.

Supper ended and I left the table to finish reading a book of poetry my uncle had brought with him from London. John Milton. While Carlisle had told me '_Paradise Lost'_ was famous, I was partial to '_To a Virtuous Young Lady'_.

It was nearing the start of a new moon and my father was insistent that on the morrow, as the new moon began, I was to witness the trial of a young lady whose father had claimed she was possessed. From what little father had told me, he was beating her for arriving home late, as her body began to shake. I couldn't help but feel compassion for her. I knew what it was like to have a father give into the madness that was this obsession.

I felt sleep overcome me as my thoughts were occupied by a beautiful young lady who I had seen riding from my uncle's house a moon ago. Her chestnut hair swept behind her as her horse ran past me on the road with such a speed I was amazed my eyes could see the detail on her face; soft cheeks, brown eyes, lips that begged for mine to ghost over them.

I had questioned my uncle about her but he had said nothing. His silence and secrecy made my desire to know who this woman was even greater.

-o-o-

I woke as the warm sun hit my face. Rising, I washed from the basin in my room and made my way down stairs. We were to be escorted into the village, and my father would be less than pleased if I were to rise late. I made my way to the sitting room to see father already there.

"You are late." He looked up at me.

"I apologize," I said quietly.

Father nodded and stood. "There is no time for you to eat this morning, we'll be late. This is a monumental day, Son. Today, you will witness the scourge of this village being shown for what it is!"

I narrowed my eyes. It seemed my father had already made his mind about this poor girl's guilt. If the other judges were the same way... I shuddered at the thought this girl didn't stand a chance, and for all we knew she could very well be innocent.

I forced a smile on my face and nodded. This was a monumental day indeed.

A large crowd had already gathered in the market square, around a stage on which there were four chairs and a bench. There was a podium with shackles opposite the seating area. I couldt only assume that was for the 'witch', so she could be restrained in case she tried her magick. I shook my head in disgust once more. It looked as though this area was for the most violent of criminals.

My father walked with three other men to the chairs and bench, a quill in one hand, useless parchment in the other. I could see on their faces that they too had made up their minds. This girl was guilty, and she would not be proven innocent. My entire being was engulfed with horror at this realisation.

A bell rang, and two guards pulled a girl by her arms toward the podium. Her head was down; her long hair fell across her face. She was not struggling, and yet she was being pulled as if she were at risk of running away. I fought the urge to jump up onto the stage and pull their hands off her.

"Isabella Swan," My father's voice rang through the entire square. The girl lifted her head, her hair fell back. My heart stopped for a moment, before starting again, doubling its speed. It was her. The girl I'd seen riding from my uncle's house.

Her beauty was not marred by the exhaustion that showed on her face. Her eyes, even from this distance, held a look of defiance.

"That is my name," she said, her voice strong.

**Isabella Swan**

"Isabella Swan, daughter of Charles Swan, you know why you have been brought before us today. Do you confess to your crimes as a witch?"

I stood in front of the row of judges and took a deep breath. "I do not. I am not a witch, nor have a committed any crime."

"This is your final answer?"

I paused briefly. Perhaps I should simply say I am, even though I know I am not. Perhaps it would be easier. However I chose to take my chance, in case, by some stroke of luck, I was let free. "It is," I said, so quietly that I am surprised I was heard…

The judges turned to each other, talking in whispers. I looked over the crowd nervously. My breath caught as my eyes fell upon a young man of no more than 25, looking at me with fear in his eyes. His red... or maybe bronze... hair was striking, and even from this distance his strong features and bright green eyes were what I noticed first. Then I saw that he was dressed well.

_A son of money._

I almost smirked, despite my current circumstances. I remember how much my father had wanted a son when my younger sister was born. If a man of little social standing could want a son so desperately, it follows logically that a man of higher standing would want one even more.

_His father must be proud._

**Edward Cullen**

Isabella's eyes darted around the crowd as my father and the others talked amongst themselves. I saw her eyes pass over me, and then she stopped. I looked away quickly, sure that she had witnessed me staring. I could feel the heat of her eyes as they took in my appearance. I hoped so desperately that she wouldn't know I was the son of one of the men determined to sentence her to torturous trials to prove that she was evil. There was nothing about the girl that was evil. She stood before me now, dressed in a simple dress, her skin pale, but her eyes... I could not move past the pure defiance in her eyes. It was almost as though she knew that she had no chance, and yet she denied the accusations.

The huddled judges parted, and Isabella turned her attention back toward them. I tried to control my breathing, but this girl had a spell on me. Surely not evil, but a spell none-the-less. She was magickal, in the most pure, beautiful, amazing way possible.

My father's voice rang through the crowd once more, and everyone's attention was focused. The square was silent for a moment.

"Isabella Swan. On this, the third day of the fifth moon, we hereby sentence you to be tried as a witch."

I watched as Isabella nodded, tears running quickly down her cheeks, but she made no noise. There was nothing for her to do, nothing to say. She had no choice but to be tried.

It was in that moment that I decided I would do whatever I could to stop her from being hung.

A week passed, and my father continued his hunt for witches. His obsession grew each day, and with each new 'witch' he caught, I was grew more determined to save Isabella. I knew where she was being kept, and tonight I planned to visit her. No one would suspect the judge's son to want to help a witch. While I detested my role as his son, I had grown to love it too. So much more could be achieved from where I was standing.

I slipped out the back of the house that evening and walked quietly for a few miles until I came to a small stone house. There was a guard on the front entrance, but only my father and I knew about the back. He saw no reason to guard something that could only be found if you knew it was already there. I found the door and pushed it open gently. I made my way through the long walkways, guided only by the waxen light of the moon. As I grew closer to the cell in which Isabella was being held, I could see the door lit up by two torches on either side of it.

I rapped my knuckles on the wooden door softly. There was no response from within the room. I slid open the bolt on the door and pulled the door open. Inside the room was dark, the same as the walkways, the only light being supplied by the moon. Lying on the floor, her legs bent at the knees, was Isabella. I could hear gentle sobs coming from her, but she did not look up when I came into the room.

"Isabella?" I asked gently, not wanting to startle her. Slowly, she sat up and looked around to meet my eyes.

"Can I help you?" Isabella answered, her voice soft. I was far too mesmerized by the way the light shone from her hair to reply. She looked as if she were glowing, her beauty was magnified by the light. Her eyes were hollow, lifeless. It made my heart ache. She must have been in so much pain.

I closed the door and walked toward her. I sat down on the floor in front of her and looked into her eyes.

"Hello..." I nodded toward her, causing a small smile to grace her lips. "I'm Edward." I didn't know what else to say. I was beginning to question why I was here, but my heart felt lighter knowing Isabella was in front of me and safe.

"I'm Isabella," she said softly, her eyes searching mine. I wished I knew what for.

"Yes, I know." I wanted to hit myself. I wanted to say something else, instead we were exchanging awkward pleasantries, trying to decipher what the other person was thinking and what they wanted.

"I do not mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?" Isabella raised an eyebrow and looked at me intently.

"Oh, I am sorry. I am here because I saw you at the trial the other week... I wanted to... I honestly do not know what I wanted by coming here. Something in your eyes made me want to know you..."

_That sounds bizarre. I want to know a girl I've seen twice._

"Oh..."

Isabella's eyes flew to the floor, a beautiful pink rose to her cheeks, and I wanted to tell her not to be embarrassed. Surely she was used to men wishing to court her.

"If you are found here you will be accused of witchcraft too..." Isabella stated the obvious.

"I know," I replied. Daringly, I took her hand in mine. "I do not care."

Isabella smiled at me. "Well, if you do not care about dying, tell me about yourself while you are still alive, Edward." A teasing smile played at her lips.

"What do you wish to know?"

"I do not know, tell me what you know about yourself. Tell me what you want to share."

I smiled at her. "My name is Edward Cullen. I am twenty years of age, my father is William Cullen -"

Bella's gasp cut me off. "Your father was one of the judges..." she said quietly.

I nodded. "A son does not always see through the same eyes as his father."

Isabella laughed wryly. "Edward, I do not know what that means. You may have been schooled, learnt to read and write, but I did not."

"I am saying that I do not share my father's views on witches. I saw in your eyes a week ago that you are not evil. You are anything but..." I ran my thumb across her hand gently, trying desperately show her I meant my words. There was nothing I could say to convince her. Actions were all I had. I brought her hand up and grazed my lips across her knuckles gently. "I promise that I will not let you die," I whispered.

**Isabella Swan**

My heart was racing as Edward's lips touched my hand. I kept my eyes focused on his hand holding mine, and did whatever I could to distract myself from the amazing feeling that was pulsing through my body.

I do not know how much time passed, but I remember sitting there with Edward, simply watching each other. So many unspoken words were passed between us. Eventually though, something had to be asked.

"Edward..." I started coyly. "I have a sister, Mary. Do you know anything of her?"

Edward shook his head. "I know only of one Mary..." Edward trailed off. I could sense by the way he was now avoiding to look at me that the news he knew of this Mary was not what I wished to hear. "She has not been seen for over a month," Edward finished. He brought his eyes up to look at me.

-o-o-

Edward had left late at night, and since that night his face had made an appearance in my dreams each night. I dreamt of the way his lips were soft on my hand. Occasionally even my dreams would stray into more vivid images. I could not help but feel almost ashamed. These images were... dangerous. I knew very little of the intercourse between a man and woman, but I knew very well what was happening. I did not want to bring myself to acknowledge them, so instead I spent the days before my trial sitting in the room and thinking about other things he had said. He had sworn to me that I was not going to die, but I could not think of how he could possibly prevent that from happening.

If I was 'proven' to be a witch at the trial today, I would be hung the next day. There was no room for error, there was no way that I could run from this.

I stood above the crowds of villagers come to witness my trial. As I am prepared to be thrown into the water I begin to pray.

"Our father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name." The crowd grew quiet, but whispers could be heard.

"How can evil utter the prayer of our Father?"

Feeling hope, I continued. "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven."

"Do not try her! She is innocent!"

"My good people!" I heard the judge yell. "The devil has often been transformed into an Angel of Light, but this doesn't not change the evil that dwells deep in its being! Let us try this girl, and we shall know if the devil has taken her soul!"

The whispers quietened, but the yells and cheers of the crowd started again. The people were hungry to see me tried. Despite their belief in my evil, I continued my prayer. Should I not live through this hour, I would at least have shown my God that I am truly not evil.

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses." _Please lord. I forgive them. Please, I do not believe myself evil. "_As we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen." I whispered the ending as I was pushed toward the water of the lake.

As I was picked up off the ground I saw Edward's bronze hair and vibrant green eyes. His eyes locked with mine, and in them I saw sorrow and regret. The world seemed to slow, and for those few moments I felt as though this was going to be alright. But soon the world returned to its normal speed as I was thrown and I fell into the water.

I could feel my clothing soak with water, and yet my body floated gently to the surface. As I broke the surface I gasped for air. I could feel the eyes of hundreds on me as a collective cry broke through. "Witch! Witch! Witch!"

I had failed. I would be hung.

Closing my eyes, I begged for my body to sink to the bottom, to end my life now. Just as I began to sink, I felt a pair of hands pulling me toward the bank.

-o-o-

I spent the rest of my day lying on the ground of my cell, staring at the tiny opening to let sunlight filter in. As the sun began to set, my eyes grew heavy and I found myself drifting into an uneasy slept. Nightmares, dreams of the gallows, plagued my sleep. From a distance I could see Edward, he was looking at me with disdain. He was glad I was being hung.

"Isabella..." I stirred in my sleep as a soft angelic voice called out my name. Opening my eyes slowly, my sight was met with the cold stone of my prison. I sat up from my place on the ground and looked around for the source of my awakening.

"Isabella, I am over here." The voice was no louder, but a sense of urgency pulled my gaze toward the locked wooden door. I stood and quietly walked over to it. Through a small gap I could see Edward's bronze hair and brilliant green eyes.

"Edward..." I closed my eyes and opened them again. He was still there. "Why are you here?" I asked quietly.

"Because you're coming with me, and we're leaving."

I gasped. "Edward, no. We can't do that! We'll both be found, and then you'll be hung too. I cannot do that to you."

"Isabella... Dear, sweet Isabella. I promise you we won't be found. We're leaving the village tonight; we're riding to the harbour. We're going to London, Isabella!"

The bolt on the door clicked as it slid open, and the creak of the door as Edward pulled it open made my heart race. Without thinking I took his outstretched hand and ran silently beside him through the cold walkways and out the back of the building. There was a horse tied loosely to a pillar close to the doorway. Edward helped me up before untying the rope and jumping up himself. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as he sped off toward the harbour. A glance behind me told me we were alone.

I smiled to myself as I rode with Edward toward the harbour.

**Edward Cullen**

My heart was racing as I snuck Isabella out of the prison in which she was kept, and it did not slow again until we reached the harbour. The sun was starting to rise as we made it to the harbour, and I could see Carlisle looking around for us anxiously. I stopped out of sight of most people, and helped Isabella down from the horse. Carlisle said there was someone coming to collect the horse, a close confidant of his.

I owed so much to him if we succeeded today. He had helped me afford the passage to England, he had paid for Isabella's passage, and guaranteed her safety the moment she boarded that ship.

I took Isabella's hand and led her toward Carlisle.

"Isabella," Carlisle said with a smile. "It warms my heart to see you safe."

Isabella's blush rose to her cheeks again as she spoke. "Thank you, Carlisle. However I do not want to say I am safe until I know that I truly am."

Carlisle nodded his agreement. "Then let us board. It will take a long time to get to England, but I promise you nothing but good things once we are on board."

-o-o-

The ship had left the harbour a week ago, and Isabella and I had spent every moment getting to know each other. I had promised to teach Isabella to read and write when we reached England. I could see in her eyes how happy my promise made her. I thought I could not be happier. That was until the day Carlisle approached me.

"Edward, there is a priest aboard the ship. Now I know you intend to marry this girl, I can see it in your eyes when you're together..."

Carlisle's words had stayed with me for the past day. I had my mother's wedding ring. She had left it to me when she passed. All I needed to do was to ask Isabella to marry me.

And this was the day I would.

I found Isabella watching the waves as the ship cut gently through the ocean. While some of the nights had been rough, making Isabella ill, today it was calm. It was warm on the deck, and I knew that Isabella was desperate to see any sort of sea animal. She had a fascination with knowing about other species. It made me even more intrigued by her.

I took Isabella's hand in mine and looked into her eyes with all the love and devotion that I could pour into them.

Instead of waiting, or drawing it out, I decided to ask her quickly. "Isabella... I love you, and I believe, or at least I truly hope that you know that. We are going to start a new life together. I want nothing more than to start that life with you by my side to love and cherish. Please, marry me."

Isabella's breath hitched as she nodded. "Yes..." There was nothing more for her to say. I placed my hands gently on her waist and pulled her toward me. Leaning down, my breath fastened and I brought my lips closer to hers. I paused, not certain she wished to continue. However, she leant toward me, and I could feel her breath, gentle on my lips. I closed the gap and pressed my lips against her softer ones.

-o-o-

The priest married us the day before we were to arrive in England. That day was windy, rough, but all passengers gathered in the one place to witness the binding of two people they did not know.

Isabella and I were lying together on a bed, in a room secluded from the rest of the passengers. I ran my hand down her face gently, and looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you, my Edward." She pushed herself toward me and pressed her lips to mine. Pulling her body toward me, I ran my hands gently down her sides, and then back up again to ghost her neck and come to rest on her cheeks.

"And I love you," I said softly as my hands ran down her back to untie her dress. Bella stood from the bed once I had untied it, and I watched as the dress fell gently from her to reveal her naked body to me. I felt everything in me spring to life. I wanted to touch her, worship her, I wanted to taste her skin on my lips. I stood and pulled her toward me again, desperate to pleasure her.

Her hands undid the ties on my shirt and slid it off my shoulders, and discarded my pants soon after. Her hands ran down my chest as I kissed her neck gently. I gasped in pleasure as Isabella's hands grasped my manhood. I lifted my head up to kiss her roughly.

"You are beautiful," I muttered against her lips. Her lips vibrated against mine softly as she moaned.

Laying her down on the bed, I lay beside her again, my legs intertwined with hers. I ran my hand up the silky skin of her leg to her apex. I paused before moving my hand again to run my fingers along her damp curls. Using my instinct, listening to her moans, I continued, determined with everything in my being to pleasure her first.

I slid a digit inside her. Isabella's eyes closed as her head rolled back. A moan emanated from her, and I moved my hand. I brought my thumb up to continue rubbing over her. Isabella's hips moved against my hand roughly as her moans turned into whimpers. I could feel her walls getting tighter as I placed another finger inside her.

"Please, my Edward. I need _you._"

Isabella's begs were enough to make me lose my control. I had to have her. I need to feel her. I rolled over and positioned myself between her legs. I looked into her eyes and whispered my adoration as I gently pushed inside of her. I tried to pull out as I saw her wince in pain. Isabella shook her head as I tried and her legs wrapped around my waist to prevent me from moving.

"I am alright," she said. Her voice was filled with lust. I began to rock my hips gently, soon it became too much though, and I had to move quickly. Isabella's moans quickly turned louder as my pace quickened.

I felt her walls spasm around me, and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let out a rough moan as my seed spilled into her.

I collapsed against her before rolling off to the side again. I pulled Isabella close to me and whispered to her, "I love you, my wife. So very, very much. Tonight is just the start of our new life."

* * *

**AN - reviews are greatly appreciated.**


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